


tell me why

by pendules



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 15:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11672166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: "What the hell were you doing out there, man?" Seth demands when they're back in the locker room. Dean still looks like shit — there's a part of him that just wants to reach out andtouchhim, stroke his cheek, brush the hair out of his eyes, make sure he's okay — but he's not letting him walk away from another conversation this time.





	tell me why

**Author's Note:**

> So, hilarious story time: I banged this out after [Dean saved Seth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xDF--eGkWM), during RAW, and totally missed their ACTUAL SHIRTLESS LOCKER ROOM SEGMENT. My life is a joke and also amazing. The canon scene is probably better, but here this is anyway. Because I am a ridiculous person. But I love everything about them and this storyline so much that I do not even care that it was basically Jossed _while I was writing it._ HAHAHA.

"What the hell were you doing out there, man?" Seth demands when they're back in the locker room. Dean still looks like shit — there's a part of him that just wants to reach out and _touch_ him, stroke his cheek, brush the hair out of his eyes, make sure he's okay — but he's not letting him walk away from another conversation this time.

"What?" Dean says, rubbing his fingers over his temple, face contorted into a grimace.

"Why did you _come out there_?" Seth says more deliberately.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dean says, looking up at him incredulously. "You _knew_ that was going to happen. You're the one with the _plan_ , right? And after telling _me_ I was being rash and stupid for _weeks_ , _you're_ the one who fucked up."

Dean's right, there's no real argument to be made there — but Seth's not letting go of this that easily, though. "Still doesn't answer my question."

Dean shrugs. "Does it matter? We both got our asses handed to us anyway." He clenches his jaw, obviously pissed-off that the tag champs got one over on them tonight. And, knowing Dean, probably imagining the best and fastest way to get revenge.

Seth sighs. "I just don't know what to _think_ about any of this. You _say_ you don't trust me, and then you come out there to get kicked in the head for me. And it just feels like — mixed signals everywhere I turn."

"Well, it's not that fucking simple, okay?" Dean snaps at him. "Everything doesn't have to make sense just because you _want_ it to, Seth."

Seth scoffs at that. "Sense? _Nothing's_ made sense to me for _months_ , Dean — Hell, _years_ even."

"And that fucks you up, right?" Dean says, quietly, knowingly. "Scares you?"

Seth doesn't even have to give him the satisfaction of an answer to that. The unknown space that he's been operating in for almost a year now — no plan, no allies, no backup — scares the absolute hell out of him. No matter the confident, brave face he puts on in front of his opponents, or the fans, or the world.

He just closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a breath. "Do you know why I wanted that match in the first place?"

"Because you're an idiot?" Dean suggests wryly.

"Because of _you_ ," Seth admits, his voice shaky, feeling utterly vulnerable. "Because I was so fucking _tired_ and frustrated and _hopeless_. And they were _right_ — I'm all alone. And maybe I deserved to get the crap kicked out of me. But then _you_ were there —"

"Why do you even care so much?" Dean asks bluntly. "About being friends again. Partners. Whatever."

"You _really_ don't know?" Seth asks, narrowing his eyes at Dean.

"No, I don't," Dean says, sounding like he really means it. Or maybe it just doesn't matter to him that much anyway.

"Because if _you_ still hate me, after everything that's happened, then none of it matters," Seth says simply.

Dean bites his lip, lowers his gaze to his hands, which are all knotted together, like he's all twisted up inside. Seth kind of wants to reach over and carefully separate them, run his own fingertips over the callouses on his palms.

"I _don't_ hate you," Dean says eventually. "I don't think, anyway. But I'm not ready to just —"

"You still _came_ out there," Seth murmurs. "When you had no reason to."

"Yeah," Dean agrees, nodding, meeting his eyes again.

"Just tell me _why_ ," Seth says, almost pleadingly. 

Dean shakes his head. "I don't know. I just felt like it. I just do things because I feel like doing them, right?" he says, mockingly.

Seth rolls his eyes and groans. "You're such a stubborn bastard. Why is it _so hard_ to just —"

Dean grabs Seth by the neck then, and kisses him, hard and full, on the mouth. It doesn't last more than a few seconds but it's firm and unyielding and furious and intense and earnest and all-consuming and everything Dean Ambrose is, distilled into one action.

" _There_. That answer your question?" he asks, voice rough, before turning on his heel and walking right out the door. 

Seth just stares after him, stunned and speechless, for the longest time. He lifts a finger to his mouth, gently touches it, wondering what the fuck just happened, before his legs seem to no longer be able to hold his weight up and he practically collapses onto the bench behind him. Breathing hard, head spinning, still tasting the ghost of Dean's kiss on his lips.


End file.
